


Fashionably Late

by aislingdoheanta



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Arguing, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:30:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4692137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aislingdoheanta/pseuds/aislingdoheanta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is late to an event Enjolras asked him to go to. </p>
<p>[Tumblr prompt fill]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fashionably Late

**Author's Note:**

> [no-party-like-a-hobbit-party](http://no-party-like-a-hobbit-party.tumblr.com/) over on tumblr send me a prompt request based off of [this list of dialogue.](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/post/127939750871/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-line-of-dialogue-and-ill)
> 
> She asked for Enjolras x Grantaire and "oh fuck, oh FUCK!" and this is what came out of it. As I said in my tumblr posting of this fic, I don't entirely know why _Underworld_ by DeLillo became a crucial plot point, but it did. So there you go.

_Oh fuck_ , Grantaire couldn’t help thinking as he rushed through the building to where the speech was taking place. He knew that he had to be there, he was _expected_ to be there.

Not just by the group, but by _Enjolras._

It wasn’t like Grantaire never went to their demonstrations—He did. Frequently enough to get carted out with the lot of them on occasion. Though normally, his charm and relationship with most of the local police force got them out.

This time was different. It was personal. Enjolras was giving a speech at one of his father’s “charity” galas. And Enjolras had asked him if he would be there.

Of course Grantaire was going to be there.

Grantaire had been keeping an eye on the time, and then he got sucked into an online debate with someone over the merits of _Underworld_ by DeLillo and suddenly he was running late. Much too late to be fashionable.

Grantaire couldn’t help but hope that maybe Enjolras hadn’t started his speech yet as he raced inside. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that Enjolras would have waited for him.

As gently as he could, he pushed his way through the crowd to get to the front of the room and heard Enjolras.

Grantaire stared up at the tiny platform and Enjolras turned his gaze directly to Grantaire. It was like he knew exactly where he was. His eyes were fierce and cold and Grantaire knew that he was…upset.

“Oh fuck,” Grantaire hissed under his breath. “ _Oh FUCK!”_

He didn’t care about the looks or “Shh!” coming his way. He only cared about the fact that he’d broken his word to Enjolras.

Grantaire didn’t give his word out very frequently because he had never been very reliable in the past. He’d given his word, he’d _promised_ Enjolras that he’d be here and he wasn’t. For all intents and purposes, he lied.

Enjolras gave his little speech, the words sort of floating around Grantaire’s head without him being able to really grasp them. But other people were listening because Grantaire caught the slight unease from the people around him before he saw the security people physically forcing Enjolras off the platform.

Grantaire’s mind finally caught up to him and he pushed his way towards where they were practically dragging Enjolras out, even though he wasn’t fighting them. He must have said all he came to say.

Grantaire followed them outside since the security people didn’t seem to pay the random guy following them any real consideration. One of them held Enjolras’ wrists while they waited for another team member to bring Enjolras’ things back out to him.

“I am very disappointed in you, son,” a man said from behind Grantaire. “I thought you’d have put this…rebelliousness behind you once you started university.”

Enjolras glared at his father. “I’d have thought you’d put all your bullshit behind you. I guess we were both doomed for disappointment.”

Enjolras snatched his coat away from the woman holding it out to him and walked off without another word. Or any glance in Grantaire’s direction.

Grantaire followed him, obviously, and waited until they were outside the massive estate before reaching out and grabbing his arm.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire said, his mouth dry. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—“

“You don’t mean to do a lot of things,” Enjolras said. Not snappy but just tired, resigned. It was worse than Enjolras’ anger.

Grantaire couldn’t argue with that. “I know. I have no excuse. I should have set an alarm so I wouldn’t forget what time I had to leave. I should have been more responsible. I should have just come with you when you left.”

“You know why I wanted you to come here tonight?” Enjolras asked.

“’Cause it’s your family?” Grantaire guessed.

“Sort of. I knew that this night was going to end with me being thrown out, possible disowned, and potentially arrested. I wanted you there because you somehow always fix those problems,” Enjolras told him quietly.

“I knew that, with you here, there wasn’t a lot that they could do to me. You’d either fight for them to release me or somehow convince them to let me go,” Enjolras said. “And then I got up there to start talking and. You weren’t there.”

“I know it’s stupid. I should rely on myself to get out of trouble, but it’s easier with you there,” Enjolras said, his eyes fixated on Grantaire. Enjolras never backed away from eye contact, regardless of his personal feelings. Grantaire always joked that Enjolras is going to look Death itself in the eye as they take him away.

“That’s why it was so important to me that you were here,” Enjolras finished quietly.

Grantaire closed his eyes and let his hand slide down Enjolras’ arm to his hand. “I’m sorry.”

Enjolras nodded.

“Why didn’t Combeferre or Feuilly come running out after you?” Grantaire asked.

“They’re not here.”

That tripped him up. “No one else showed up?”

“No one else knew about it,” Enjolras said.

“You didn’t tell anyone else?” Grantaire asked.

“No. It was personal. I asked them not to come,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire, if possible, felt like an even bigger asshole than he previously did. Enjolras was incredibly private—about things of a more personal nature. He doesn’t talk much about his family. He never so much as mentioned any of his past relationships. And when they’re started whatever this thing was between them, Enjolras had banned discussion of it during their meeting times.

“I’m sorry,” Grantaire said again. “Can I make it up to you?”

“How?” Enjolras asked.

“By telling you that that was the worst party I’ve ever been to. I mean, tacky decorations and that food looked awful. The champagne tasted like paint,” Grantaire said. “And I’ll get you one of those coffee drinks you like and we can watch that documentary you’ve been wanting to watch.”

“You mean _you’ve_ been drying to watch,” Enjolras said, but the corners of his mouth were turned up a little.

“Either way, you can pick. And I won’t say anything about it,” Grantaire told him.

Enjolras just tilted his head at him.

“Okay. I’ll _try_ not to say anything about it. I’ll do my best to just sit quietly and watch whatever you pick out,” Grantaire told him.

“Like that will last very long,” Enjolras said, his smile more fond than anything else.

“You wound me,” Grantaire said before tugging Enjolras to him and wrapping his arms around him. “I am really sorry.”

“I know,” Enjolras said. “What were you doing before you got here?”

Grantaire pulled away with a wince. “I sort of got into a debate with some guy named Phil about _Underworld._ ”

Enjolras laughed and reached for Grantaire’s hand. “And by debate you mean argument.”

“He started it. He said that _Underworld_ was a literary masterpiece. I said, that may be but it’s boring as fuck and there’s nothing that happens for like 600 pages. It’s just some dude rambling on about how deep and insightful he is and baseball,” Grantaire told him.

“Did you even finish that book?” Enjolras asked.

“No. But I didn’t need to in order to recognize it was crap,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras laughed. “I normally advocate learning all you can before you start arguing, but it’s kind of fun to see you argue about something you haven’t fully read yet. I’ll have to see those posts.”

“You got it. I wonder if he responded to my last post,” Grantaire wondered out loud and couldn’t help but feel grateful that the storm seemed to have passed without too much destruction.

They did get Enjolras his intensely sugary, barely-any-coffee coffee drink on their way back to Enjolras’ apartment and Enjolras did pick a documentary that he’d been wanting to watch about the US and their economic struggles—which they both muttered about under their breath or out loud. But eventually gave it up for looking up Grantaire’s anti- _Underworld_ post and seeing all the responses and replying to them.

Phil had responded by telling Grantaire that perhaps it was too great of a novel for him to understand with his tiny brain. Enjolras just laughed as Grantaire liked the comment.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it! Feel free to [prompt me](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/ask) other things because I'm really trying to stay actively writing. (And not getting trapped under mountains of unfinished fic. It's why I'm trying to post something [every week on my tumblr](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/tagged/friday%20ficlets).)
> 
> Here's the [list of dialogue](http://saras-almanac.tumblr.com/post/127939750871/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-line-of-dialogue-and-ill) that has my main focus pairings in it right now. But I'm open to other stuff!


End file.
